


Issues of Trust

by skyvale



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Balance in the force, Canon Compliant, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Slow Burn, abandonment issues like whoa, canonverse, dealing with past (and current) abuse, enemies to lovers in a hecking healthy relationship is my jam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-17 02:16:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12355398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyvale/pseuds/skyvale
Summary: When Rey is presumed dead following the destruction of Starkiller Base, she and Kylo Ren are forced to work together in order to survive.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So... this is my first fanfic ever, besides some truly atrocious Inuyasha fic I wrote in elementary school. Hopefully it's decent!
> 
> Mature rating for when things inevitably heat up later. I'll probably add tags and characters as I go along. We'll see where the reylo gods take this.

The world was alive with the fury of the dying sun. The sky darkened—worse and more foreboding than any desert storm Rey had witnessed—while the earth shuddered and heaved beneath her feet.

Kylo Ren lay sprawled some distance away from her, bleeding in the snow. The gash she’d drawn across his face sizzled with the lingering heat of her lightsaber, while he stared at her with a mixture of surprise and awe.

And that was when the planet cracked in two.

Rey had neither the time nor the breath to cry out. Her thoughts suspended while instinct, learned from years of climbing through starship wreckage on Jakku, took over. A fissure yawned beneath her feet, throwing her to her knees, but it didn’t stop her from stumbling away from the growing divide. She dug her hands and feet through snow, scrabbling for purchase until she latched onto a tree trunk.

She glanced in all directions for Finn, but saw him nowhere. Not until she looked across the gaping trench and saw him lying, still unconscious, half-concealed between tree limbs and snow banks. Then the earth split even wider, stealing him from sight.

Rey felt her heart pound in her throat. She wasn’t on the same side of the divide as Finn. Nor did she have any hope of crossing.

She looked over her shoulder and saw Kylo, still lying prone on his back. On the same side as her.

She didn’t even think before reigniting her lightsaber, her whole body tensed and prepared to strike. But Kylo made no motion to defend himself—perhaps he was finally too injured to move.

The crashing of falling trees and the horrible rumble of splitting earth roared all around them, but the whistle of the _Millennium Falcon_ cut through it all as it touched down. It had come, come for her and Finn, come for _her—_

Dread flowered in Rey’s gut when the ship lingered ten seconds, fifteen, thirty, forty-five, and then…

It lifted off into the sky and was gone, while the planet was still crumbling all around her.

She heard a scoffing sound over her shoulder, and turned to face Kylo Ren—bleeding, trembling, struggling to force himself up onto his elbows.

“What are you waiting for?” His eyes were black and raw, still hungry for a fight, even now. “Finish it.”

Rage licked at Rey’s insides, and for a split moment she wanted to. Whether or not they were both moments from their deaths, she wanted to drive her lightsaber through Kylo like he’d run through Han Solo, his own _father,_ slay him like the monster he was—

The moment passed, and she felt herself shiver as the dark side relaxed its grip on her.

Neither she nor Kylo had a chance to say anything else before the foreboding roar of another starship’s engines loomed behind her. It was not the hopeful sound of the X-wings she'd heard at the Resistance base, but a metallic growl she recognized from inside Starkiller.

“Get him up!”

Two stormtroopers jogged past her to lift Kylo off the ground, while another pair lifted their rifles to aim them at her.

“Drop your weapon!”

Rey snarled, and whirled around to meet them with her lightsaber.

Then she felt something crack against the back of her head, and everything went black.

* * *

Lights strobed the insides of Rey’s eyelids, and she heard voices as her consciousness flickered in and out, before something smothered her with the heavy blanket of sleep.

It felt like weeks had passed when she finally woke again, to a chamber that was vaguely familiar. She recognized the dark walls and cold metal of what she thought was the interrogation room Kylo had held her in, but as her awareness trickled back to her, she realized she wasn't strapped to a chair as she had been before. Instead she slumped against a wall on the floor, hands and ankles shackled, and head muzzy with what felt like drugs. Her eyes rolled up into her head, and consciousness came and went until the sounds of voices roused her.

“Where's the girl?”

She'd recognize that voice anywhere—Kylo’s, neither muffled nor warped by his mask.

“You mean the untrained scavenger who cut open your face and nearly killed you at Starkiller?”

Rey didn't recognize the second man’s voice, but Kylo’s rage was palpable, even without knowing exactly where or how close he was.

“She's alive,” the other man continued. “More alive than you were when we found you.”

“I asked where she was, not if she was alive.”

“Why? So you can interrogate her again? Because that went splendidly last time.”

Their voices drew nearer. Kylo’s was razor calm. “She's strong in the Force. Unusually strong. I might have underestimated her before, but—”

“You spent five minutes alone with her, and then an _untrained scavenger from Jakku_ manipulated one of my stormtroopers into freeing her, handing her a weapon, and helping her escape.”

“It's not my fault if your troops are incompetent, Hux.”

“That wouldn't have been a problem if you hadn't let her in your head and taught her how to do it, _Ren.”_

Another wave of icy rage touched Rey where she sat in her cell, emanating from where Kylo stood in the hallway beyond, just out of sight.

“You think I helped her escape?” The disbelief was obvious in Kylo’s voice.

“No,” Hux said. “Though perhaps Supreme Leader Snoke was right. Maybe you do feel _compassion_ for her.”

Silence fell.

“Your new helmet, Ren.” She heard Hux shove something into Kylo’s hands. “Since you misplaced your other one at Starkiller. And no one is too eager to see your face while it still looks like _that.”_

Rey heard what she could only guess were Hux’s crisp footsteps echoing away, back down the hall. And though she couldn't see anything from where she was, she could've sworn she saw a flash of Kylo’s face in her head: black hair damp and limp from having just emerged from a bacta tank, his face still marred by a half-open wound. The new helmet in his hands, identical to the one he wore before. The one he discarded before his father.

_The face of my son._

Rey heard Han Solo’s words echoing over and over in her head before unconsciousness claimed her once more.

* * *

The next time Rey woke, it was to the painful awareness of the throbbing bruise on the back of her head.

She tried to move, and immediately regretted it. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the wave of nausea to fade, though the cold bite of shackles around her hands and ankles didn’t escape her notice. So she _was_ in the interrogation room again.

Except… no, she wasn’t. She was on her knees. But why was she…

“So this is the scavenger.”

A rumbling voice made her head snap up despite the pain. She was kneeling in a black, cavernous room, and shimmering before her was the image of a throne—and seated upon it was a humanoid creature, white, gaunt, and towering over her, regarding her with a gaze that sent a chill raking down her spine.

She didn't even notice Kylo Ren until he shifted his weight beside her. “Yes, Supreme Leader.” He was masked again.

“Mn.” The monstrous man said nothing for an uncomfortable stretch of time. Then he raised his hand, and Rey’s stomach dropped as she was lifted midair and pulled towards him. Her breath trembled and she tried to yank herself away, but between his grip and her shackles it was futile. Then she felt a sensation she recognized—like fingers peeling away the layers behind her eyes. He was searching her mind.

She pushed back, hard. Last time, Kylo had grappled with her. This man, however, crashed straight through her.

Immediately images flooded her head, until she was no longer in the Supreme Leader’s chamber at all—she was a five-year-old child back on Jakku, a teenager rooting through a downed Star Destroyer, then with Finn on the _Millenium Falcon,_ joy bubbling through her when Han Solo offered her a job. Then she was beneath Maz Kanata’s cantina with Luke’s lightsaber, where it was calling to her, the Force wrapping its fingers around her and pulling her down with it.

Then she was with Kylo Ren, watching him unmask himself. Feeling the shock she’d felt at the sight of his face. She’d expected a monster. And instead…

Driving his lightsaber through his father. _He would have disappointed you._

Rey gasped as Supreme Leader Snoke dropped her on the floor, knees smarting from the impact. Cold sweat slicked her skin, and she trembled despite herself.

“You were right,” Snoke said. “The Force is strong with her.” His image shimmered as he leaned forward. “No wonder the Resistance was so eager to retrieve her. Except… they didn’t.”

Rey felt that like a stab in the gut. No, they hadn't. They’d taken Finn, but left her.

“They had only moments before the planet was destroyed,” Kylo said behind her. “They may have believed she was dead, or they didn’t have time to reach her.”

Rey shouldn't have felt any comfort in anything Kylo said, but she found herself hoping he was right. At least then, they wouldn't have left her on purpose.

Snoke looked thoughtfully at him. “Do you think they would believe the same of you?”

A beat passed before Kylo answered. “No,” he said. “General Organa would know if I’d died.”

“Unfortunate, but not unexpected.” Then he turned his attention to Rey. “What is the Resistance to you, scavenger?”

Rey shot him the nastiest look she could muster. “They’re my _friends.”_

“Friends you’ve known for a handful of days, if that,” Snoke said. “What friends they must be, to inspire such loyalty in you. Or how deep your loneliness must run, for you to cling to them so desperately.”

Rey suddenly felt filthy, and it had nothing to do with her grimy clothes. She felt Kylo shift behind her again, but he said nothing.

“They saw your potential,” he continued. “It’s obvious, even to those insensitive to the Force. This Maz Kanata certainly saw it. She saw not what you are, but what you could become. And what you could become, Rey of Jakku… is a force to be reckoned with.”

He leaned forward again, and though he wasn’t prying into her mind, she felt as if his eyes were probing her insides.

“The lure of the Resistance is a tempting one. The legend of Luke Skywalker, the last Jedi, stories of the Rebellion… I understand why you would be so taken with them, especially considering where you come from. I can also see how those things made it easy for them to sink their claws into you.”

“You make it sound like they’re using me.” Rey’s words came out thick and choked. “You’re wrong.”

“And how can you be so sure of that?” he said. “Because you know them so well? Do you really think the Resistance is so noble that they’d be above recognizing your potential, your possibility, what you could _do_ for them?” The faintest of smiles curled his mouth. “You’re a very powerful piece in a game that you didn’t know you were playing. And they would give anything to play _you.”_

Rey wanted something clever to say, but it was hard to think through her pain and simmering hate. “You’re wrong,” she repeated, lamely.

“We shall see.” Snoke leaned back on his holographic throne. “Tell General Hux to devote as many resources as necessary to decrypting any Resistance channels he can. We need to know if they believe she’s alive. If they do, they’ll strike again soon. If not… then we are lucky indeed.”

Kylo bowed his head. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“And then,” Snoke said, “you shall return to me, with the girl. And we shall complete your training.”

Kylo glanced at Rey, almost imperceptibly. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

“Take Rey of Jakku to the detention blocks,” he said. “Not the prison cells.”

Kylo looked at her again, and even through the mask she felt his look of surprise.

“She is our honored guest,” Snoke said, with disarming sincerity. Rey shivered, and she thought she could sense that even Kylo felt awkward—he’d said the same to her when she’d first woken up in the interrogation room. “Though of course, you will inform General Hux that a guard will be posted outside her chambers. Just in case.”

This time, Kylo bowed deeply. “Of course, Supreme Leader.”

“You’re dismissed.” And with that, Snoke’s image shimmered away, leaving the room in darkness.

Kylo lifted her to her feet. Though he did so far more gently than Snoke had, Rey still fought to twist herself out of his grip.

“You _are_ a monster,” she snarled. “Both of you.”

The mask stared at her for a moment. Then, with a click, the shackles binding her wrists and ankles clattered on the floor.

Rey stiffened. “What are you doing?”

“The shackles are unnecessary,” Kylo said.

Rey frowned. “Why?”

Kylo was quiet for a moment. “You’re smart enough to know that if you run, you won’t get very far.”

“I got pretty far last time.”

“And it won’t happen again.”

She scoffed. “Guess we’ll see about that.”

“I don’t _want_ to drag you to your room,” Kylo said. “Believe it or not, the thought gives me no pleasure. But if I have to, I will.”

His grip on her arm wasn’t tight, but it wasn’t loose, either.

When she didn’t answer, he started moving. “This way.”

She nearly stumbled after him—his legs were far longer than her own—but he must have noticed, for he slowed his pace.

“Your Supreme Leader honestly thinks I’d join you?” she spat. “He’s wrong.”

Kylo regarded her for a moment. It was strange, she thought, that even though he was masked she felt as if she could see the thoughts churning in his head, that she could feel the look he was giving her. Appraising. Uncertain.

“We’ll see,” Kylo said, before leading her out of the room.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey decides not to take Kylo's advice and makes some arguably poor life choices.

Rey hoped that, at the very least, Kylo would leave her alone once he returned her to her cell. But he didn't. He didn't return her to a cell at all, but a small room the color of dark metal, furnished sparsely with a cot, a ‘fresher, and no windows.

The door slid shut immediately after them, and dread crawled the length of her insides.

“Hux’s stormtroopers gave you a concussion.” Even masked, Kylo’s voice dripped with displeasure. “With me, there wasn't any need, but he was… hasty.”

“People tend to get that way when the planet they’re on’s exploding.”

“It was careless.” He released her arm. “It could have killed you.”

Rey rubbed her skin where his glove had been, though his grip hadn't been tight enough to leave any imprint. “And that would’ve been a shame.”

“It would.” Kylo looked at her. “Do you remember being woken up?”

“I—what?”

“You were woken every few hours by medical droids to make sure there was no lasting damage. They said your mental faculties hadn't declined so far… besides your memory, apparently.” Rey wasn’t sure if that was a jab or not. “You don't remember the bacta tank, either?”

“No, I—” Rey’s stomach dropped. “How long have I been here?”

“Does it matter?” Before she could protest, he continued. “It'll take several more days for you to recover fully.” He turned from her suddenly, his cloak licking at her knees. “I recommend resting. _Not,”_ he said, “escaping.”

She stared at the back of his helmet as he strode for the door. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said anything. Perhaps it was pointless to have done so. She probably should have just let him leave—but the anger was still too raw, and the wound too fresh, for her to keep the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

“How could you do it?”

Kylo stopped, but didn’t turn to look at her. “Do what?”

“Kill your own father. Your _family.”_ Rey’s voice cracked on the word. “You had a family, and even after everything you did, he wanted… he wanted to take you back. He…”

But her voice grew too thick to speak, and her words trailed off. Kylo said nothing for a while.

“Medical droids will be by to check your progress.”

And with that, he was gone.

* * *

Rey wanted to stay awake as long as she could—partly because she didn't want to let her guard down, and partly to spite Kylo—but after only a few minutes of lying on the cot in her empty room, sleep found her too easily.

Just as Kylo promised, medical droids stopped by at irritatingly frequent intervals to rouse her from sleep and ask her questions. What was her name? What planet did she come from? How old was she? What was two plus five? After the third time one woke her she tried to launch it across the room, only for it to restrain her and ask in that gratingly calm voice what her name was, what planet was she from, how old was she…

One eventually brought food, which she refused to touch. Eventually they stopped coming altogether, and somehow that was even more maddening. When she wasn’t sleeping, she was left to do nothing but stare at the slate metal walls and wonder how much time had passed. Hours? Days? Was the Resistance searching for her—or had Kylo been right? Did they really think she was dead?

Now she wasn't sure if that was a relief or not. She had been so close to Finn back on that planet. _So close._ But they'd left without her. And now…

She felt a knot of guilt in her stomach. She was so concerned about having been left behind, but what about Finn? Was _he_ all right? He'd been unconscious when they fetched him, and if Kylo’s fussing over her being knocked out was any indication, that couldn't be good.

She needed to get back to him. To the Resistance. They needed to know she was alive, and she needed to be with her friend.

Rey had plenty of time to mull over her options. Last time, she'd compelled the guard to release her and give her his weapon, but would they be prepared for that now? She wasn't entirely sure how it worked—she was operating on pure instinct, a voice in the back of her head that she felt and heard whenever she closed her eyes and imagined, as Maz Kanata said, the Force all around her.

If the mind tricks didn't work, she could fight. Except that was probably a terrible idea.  
She glanced around the room. If there was one thing scavenging had taught her, it was that there was always something to be found.

She'd recognized the ship’s architecture as an echo from a Star Destroyer she'd spent weeks picking apart, so she must be on one of those, albeit a newer model. The control panel to the locks on the door were on the outside, and unless she found something with which to bust open the wall without alerting the guards, that was useless to her. Besides, once they heard her hacking away at the wires, they'd come inside and knock her out again.

It gave her some satisfaction to know that would probably piss Kylo off.

It also made her realize she needed a weapon first. She probably couldn't open the door herself, but if she could get the guards to come inside, maybe she could do something about them. Maybe the mind trick would work again. And maybe she could make a break for it, commandeer a ship, and escape before anyone was the wiser.

Maybe.

She went back to the cot, which other than the ‘fresher was the only fixture in the room. The mattress came away easily, revealing the durasteel frame screwed to the wall—not welded to it. Perfect.

She worked at it until her knuckles ached and her fingers were raw, before she finally pulled one of its beams away. She lifted it in her hand and tested its weight—not as agile as her staff, and shorter, but she could make it work. She hoped she could, anyway.  
She then walked into the ‘fresher and scoured the walls for anything she could use to her advantage. There wasn't any water, just sonics, which reminded her of her parched throat and the soupy thing the droid tried to pass off as food, and she'd refused to touch.  
She’d also refused to use the sonic shower. She didn't want to give either Kylo or Snoke the pleasure of smelling good.

But she turned on the sonic shower and sink, then went over every square inch of the room. She twisted every knob, pried at every screw, and finally climbed on top of the sink to wrestle with the light fixture above her, while the sonics drowned out the noise. With the durasteel beam, she smashed in the cover as carefully as she could, avoiding the rain of shattered glass before she peered inside. The lights and wires, far from being a tangled mess, were laid out in careful precision, just like the rest of the ship. Good. It made her job easier.

The setup was familiar enough to her that she could pull out wires, cross them, and listen to them crackle and keen before the circuits in the room were overloaded, and everything went black.

The sounds of movement outside were muffled through the door. She climbed down from the sink just in time to hear the lock click.

Two stormtroopers spilled inside, rifles pointed straight at her.

“Well,” she said. “That was weird. All the lights went—”

“Hands where we can see them.”

She lifted them. This was as good an opportunity to try as any.

“You don't want to point your weapons at me.”

They were silent for a moment. “What?”

She tried again. “You don't want to point your weapons at me.”

There was a pause. Then one of them scoffed. “Nice try.”

Well, it’d been worth a shot.

Rey grabbed the durasteel beam and swung, hard. It collided with one of the stormtrooper’s arms, and the ‘fresher rang with their cries of pain as the first one’s rifle fired directly at the other’s leg. He went down, and Rey drove the butt of the beam straight into the first one’s helmet, sending him sprawling backwards, before she thwacked the other in the back of the head. Both of them slumped to the ground, unmoving.

She had to admit, the revenge felt a _little_ good.

She dragged them and their blasters inside the ‘fresher, and stripped the one that looked closest to her size. Climbing into the suit proved a lot more difficult and cumbersome than she expected—not only was it built for someone taller than her, but it resisted her movements in every way her robes didn't. Not to mention, she felt half-blind beneath the visor.

But there was no time to waste. She picked one of the blasters off the ground, tripped over one of the troopers’ fallen bodies, and stumbled out of the ‘fresher before pulling the door shut. She hastened out of the room, shut that door behind her as well, and knelt by the control panel. Her fingers felt thick as sausages inside the suit, but at least she didn't feel it when one of the wires smarted at her as she hotwired the locking mechanism to trap the stormtroopers inside, and—she hoped—avoid triggering any alarms.

She straightened up just in time for another trooper to walk down the corridor.

“What's going on?”

_Kriff._ “It’s… nothing.” She cleared her throat. “Some kind of power surge.”

He looked at her. “Where's the other guard?”

“He left to find a technician.” Rey pointed at the door with her rifle. “I stayed to guard the prisoner.”

More silence. “She didn't have anything to do with it, did she?”

“No, no, of course not! She's still dead asleep in there. Hasn’t woken up since the last medical droid visited.” She waved a hand. “Totally out of it.”

“Really,” he said. “Then why do you sound just like her?”

Oh, kark it.

Rey feinted. The trooper fired over her shoulder, and she rammed her rifle into his side.

He grunted, and while he was doubled over, she fired at the seam between his arm and his chestplate. He cried out, then fell backwards. He didn't move.

She wouldn't let herself think about him, not now. Someone probably heard that, and even if they didn't, they'd soon see it. She needed to _leave._

Rey jogged down the corridor and only slowed when she saw other stormtroopers. She fell in step easily behind them—she'd learned at a young age if you acted like you knew where you were going, people tended not to bother you. Apparently, the same principle held up here.

She threaded her way through a labyrinthine series of hallways, none of which she recognized from the fallen Star Destroyers she'd gutted on Jakku. Of course they had to make this model not only several times larger, but also several times more complicated. _Of course._

Her heart inched into her throat with every step she took, but she found her way to the hangar, echoing with announcements over the loudspeaker and the sounds of TIE fighters’ arrivals and departures.

She'd never flown a TIE fighter before, but she'd spent the better part of her life rooting through their corpses for parts. She also knew they lacked a hyperdrive and were useless for landing on anything that wasn't a hangar bay. But Finn and his friend—Poe, she remembered—had gotten away in one, hadn't they?

_And crashed, with Poe dead,_ she reminded herself. Now was probably not the best time to remember that.

And that was when an alarm blared and painted the walls in flashing red.

“Prisoner escape from detention block F-49…”

Oh, she really needed to get out of here.

She tried to run without running to the rack of TIE fighters. It didn't escape her notice that they were tethered to the launching bay, or that troopers in the traffic control room were watching over them from above, but she doubted she had the time to charm them into letting her leave. Instead she climbed into the first one she could reach and lowered herself into the cockpit.

The first thing she noticed was that this wasn't a normal TIE fighter. There was a hyperdrive, for one thing—thank the Force. But the cockpit also had space for two: a pilot and a gunner. And she had no gunner.

_No time to think about that now,_ she told herself, even as her anxiety mounted high enough to choke her. She yanked off her stormtrooper gauntlets before she ghosted her fingers over the controls. She started flipping switches, and felt the ship growl to life around her as sirens wailed outside.

_Force be with me._ She gunned the engine. The TIE fighter howled as it launched itself into the air, only to be yanked back by its cable, throwing her against the dashboard and nearly crashing into the hangar deck. Every turret turned to face her, the hangar bay doors were closing, and she didn't think—she acted. She stalled in the air, the tether gone slack, waited for the turbolaser to take aim—and then propelled the ship, _hard,_ into the air. The turbolaser struck the tether, and with a heart-stopping lurch, she was free.

The TIE fighter howled through the closing hangar bay doors, dodging the turbolaser cannons with frightening ease. Force, this thing could _move._ Good thing, too, because…

Wait. Rey glanced at the radar. She’d expected fighters to follow her—but this soon? Did they even have time to launch? And they weren’t coming from the ship. More and more dots appeared on her screen, materializing as if from thin air. From hyperspace.

“Inbound Resistance fighters,” a voice crackled over her comm. “All troops to battle stations.”

_The Resistance!_

Her heart leapt with joy, and she couldn’t believe her luck or her timing—but it lasted only a moment. Then she realized that she was flying a TIE fighter straight at the people who thought she was the enemy.

Rey barrel rolled out of the way of the first round of blaster fire aimed at her, before more TIE fighters emerged from the battlecruiser like bees boiling out of a hive. She pivoted away from the gunfire, but already an X-wing was on her tail.

_Oh, no._ Perhaps it was a good thing she didn’t have a gunner, because she didn’t want to hurt whatever Resistance fighter was following her, but that didn’t mean they felt the same. Rey cycled through a dozen subspace frequencies, trying to find a Resistance channel, though she knew it was impossible—those channels would be encrypted, and she had no idea how to access them. And having to evade blaster fire at the same time wasn’t making it any easier.

“This is Rey!” she shouted into the comm. “Don’t shoot, it’s me, don’t shoot!”

But it wasn’t working. She jerked her ship aside just in time to avoid a blast that would have shattered one of her wings, and tried to lose him around one of the angles of the battlecruiser, but with no luck. A creeping sense of dread snaked through her insides as the X-wing closed in on her, and yet another blip appeared on her radar—this one moving twice as fast.

Rey twisted her ship around to see another TIE fighter racing towards her, but it was unlike any of the others she'd seen on the hangar bay rack. This one was at least more than twice the length of hers, but narrow rather than box-shaped, made of sharp angles, and barreling straight for her.

Rey dropped beneath it and felt her ship rattle as the other fighter rocketed over her, its blasters tearing the X-wing to pieces. Before she could even think to feel sorry for the pilot, the other TIE fighter banked hard and sent another blaster volley directly over her. Rey felt her ship shudder from an explosion over her shoulder.

She thought, at least, that she was clear—but then the TIE fighter whirled around and headed straight for her.

It didn’t look friendly.

Rey propelled her fighter away at full throttle, back toward the battlecruiser. The other pilot might be good, but her ship was still smaller. She hurtled herself at the battlecruiser’s side, between the upper and lower plates, and pulled away a split second from the imminent crash. She wove between its turrets and durasteel overhangs, twisted away from the blaster fire of X-wings and TIE fighters and battlecruiser turrets alike. But the other fighter followed right on her heels, despite its size. Kriff, this pilot was good.

She expected to be dodging blaster fire from this fighter as well, but there wasn't a single shot aimed at her. But why wouldn't they…

She realized, with a sinking heart, who it was that wouldn't want her dead.

Kylo flew like his father, the way only someone raised on smuggling runs could. Every time she thought she lost him, he reappeared with a few meters gained on her, and every time she was certain he'd clip his wings on a sharp turn, he came away unscathed. And every time a Resistance ship passed too close to her, he shot them down with frightening accuracy.

No. No. _No._ Her friends were dying because of her.

Realizing losing him in the battlecruiser’s architecture was futile, she pulled away into open space. Kylo shot down another Resistance fighter in front of her, and it went crashing like a comet into the battlecruiser’s side.

Kylo’s TIE fighter soared through the trail of X-wing debris after her. But with her lacking a gunner, and him unwilling to fire, it seemed they were at an impasse—until she realized he was herding her toward the battlecruiser’s tractor beam.

She let him shepherd her to just outside its range—hopefully just enough to make him think he'd won—before she cut all propulsion to her engines, pivoted, and went howling straight over his head, missing his fighter by what had to be mere inches.

He jerked away from her, and it didn't matter that there was no one to hear as she whooped and laughed. He was headed straight for the tractor beam, he’d be caught in it, and she—

Kylo flipped his fighter over, escaping the tractor beam by what had to be less than a meter, and flew straight at her.

Rey didn't have time to respond before Kylo’s fighter collided with hers with the force of a battering ram. It flung her across the controls and whipped her head back, but no alarms went off, no fire broke out, and nothing exploded. Her head spun. What in the Force had he…

It took her several seconds to realize that one of her wings was trapped between the blades of his fighter, like they were a dragon’s jaws. He’d grabbed a hold of her ship by running into it, somehow without damaging a thing, and was flying her back toward the battlecruiser.

The cockpit spun in what felt like a barely-controlled freefall as the propulsion from both their engines sent them flying, with Kylo banking hard in the direction of the tractor beam. Rey knew that if she even tried to extract herself from Kylo’s grip, her fighter would be ripped apart. Meanwhile, blaster fire flared red all around them, and she knew at this rate, they’d both be shot down before they could reach the hangar.

She had an idea. It was an absolutely crazy, terrible idea, but it was the only one she could think of.

She vaulted over her seat in the cockpit to switch to the gunner position. She didn't need to be a great shot, not with Kylo right on top of her, but she did need to make sure she didn't suffer any collateral damage.

Rey felt a snap in the air, like a current of electricity running between her and Kylo’s cockpit, before she heard a thought that was not her own in the back of her head. _Don't do it._

She did it.

She fired at Kylo’s wing, and her fighter shuddered violently. Metal crunched and splintered and flew everywhere in pieces, raining on her hull. They spun out of control, and before Rey could wrench her fighter free, Resistance blaster fire struck them both. Their fighters screamed as they fell, and Rey’s stomach dropped out of her as she felt one of her wings—and engines—torn away.

_Oh kriff._ Kylo was still latched on to her, tangled in their mangled wings, as they hurtled toward something that was neither the dagger-shaped mass of the battlecruiser or the empty blackness of space. An unfamiliar horizon loomed close, closer, closer, their fighters quaking against the gravity while flames burst to life all around them as they entered the atmosphere.

Rey’s controls screamed at her, and with her heart in her mouth she fumbled for every lever and dial she could reach to find the emergency eject. She wrapped her hand around the lever she needed and pulled, but it was stuck, wedged between two bits of crunched metal. A flickering screen told her her altitude was low and dropping. Oh, Force, she was _not_ going to die here.

She heaved with all her might, and finally the lever came loose. All the wind was knocked out of her as she was launched into the air.

Gravity smothered her like a heavy blanket, and she passed out.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey deals with the aftermath of her questionable life choices.

Rey woke to the smell of burning metal and what felt like a thousand bruises all over her body.

She gasped, and immediately felt her sternum caving in on her from the battered armor she was still wearing. Though her joints screamed at every movement, she ripped off the chest plate and wriggled out of the rest of her stolen stormtrooper gear, only to brush her bare skin against something that burned.

It was hot.  _Really_  hot. And gritty. And everywhere.

Still gasping, Rey fell back against the ground. For one wild moment, she thought she was back on Jakku, before her mind caught up with her. She was certainly lying on sand, that much was true—but it was a rich red, a color she’d never seen back home. And out of the corner of her eye, she could see what appeared to be rocky cliff-faces, and the ground beneath her was far harder and more solid than any dune she’d ever landed in.

Without moving her neck, she glanced around and saw both she and the remnants of her ship lay half-buried in a shallow sand bank, where red rock and grit mixed with sooty black ash. Her TIE fighter smoked and groaned as what remained of it continued to collapse.

Rey rolled over on her side, throwing herself just out of reach of a melting piece of the TIE fighter’s remaining wing, which landed where her head had been moments before.

She heard another ponderous, creaking sound, and finally she scrambled to her feet and stumbled away from the wreckage, just before she heard something crash. She felt the fire flare to life behind her, consuming the rest of the ship with it.

Rey staggered away from the remains of her ship, clutching a bruised rib, and tripping when her feet found rock instead of sand. Pain radiated from her ribcage, her sternum, her back, and what felt like every joint in every limb she possessed. She knew her TIE fighter was ruined beyond repair. She wasn't even sure if it'd be good for scraps once it was no longer on fire. She also had no idea where she was.

Kylo had crashed here too, somewhere. And something—instinct, the Force, or just plain pessimism—told her he wasn't dead.

This was… not good. Nothing about this was good, except perhaps the fact that the air wasn't toxic. It hadn't killed her _yet,_ anyway.

She probably needed to keep moving, but Force, she was tired. She just wanted to lay down… to rest…

A sound like a distant roar made her look up. She saw nothing but a dusty orange horizon, where through a howling gust of sand she saw a sun setting. Unless this planet’s days were long, night would be upon her soon, and she knew all too well how cold a desert night could be. With the rags she was wearing, she’d probably freeze to death before she had the privilege of worrying about whatever predators lived here.

She had little choice but to crawl back to the smoking wreckage of her TIE fighter, which, as the growing sandstorm smothered the flames, was growing less and less warm by the minute.

She needed to activate its distress beacon. If she could even get to it, if it could still work, if she could get a hold of the Resistance at all. But there was no hope of digging through the wreckage while the metal was still hot enough to burn off her skin.

Until then, she needed a weapon. She only wished she'd thought to find Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber before escaping the battlecruiser, because the only things around her were a melting ship and sand, with the blaster she’d stolen lost somewhere in the wreckage.

She heard another roar. This time, she could swear it sounded closer.

Rey stumbled to her feet once again. She had no idea where she was going, except in what she hoped was the opposite direction of whatever was making that noise.

When it roared again, Rey started running.

Her legs screamed with every movement, and her limbs fought her every step of the way, but she heard something galloping toward her over her shoulder. She turned to look, and immediately regretted it.

A massive, spiked, tusked creature was pounding after her, carried by four hulking limbs that each ended in four monstrous claws. It stared at her with a pair of hot black eyes, set in a gargantuan bullet-shaped skull. It opened its mouth, and between its two tusks she saw rows of jagged teeth, growing larger as it charged toward her.

Rey could’ve gone her whole life without seeing that.

She tore her gaze away from whatever wretched thing was pursuing her, and through the growing sandstorm saw a steep rocky wall. She didn't think twice before she hurled herself at it. Her hands slipped before she dug her fingers into a shallow ledge, and with trembling arms she pulled herself up.

The monster collided with the rock wall beneath her, and she scrambled upward as it reared on its hind legs and snapped its jaws just beneath her feet. The rank smell of rotting flesh choked her and made her eyes water, but she hastily blinked away her tears and kept climbing until she hoisted herself over a ledge. It was narrow, barely wide enough for her to stand, but she flattened herself against it and lodged her fingers into the rocky surface before she dared look down below.

She heard another deafening roar, then felt the ground beneath her tremble as the creature threw itself against the wall. She scrambled backward as several rocks came pelting down on them, but the monster paid them no mind. Instead, it started to climb.

This was really not good.

Rey’s arms burned, but she hoisted herself up again, hooking her fingers into the cliff face and forcing herself to move. She was slowing down, and she knew it, but the top of the cliff was only a few feet away. She could make it. She could—

Her hand slipped and she cried out, certain she was plummeting to her death, before she realized she was hanging precariously from the ledge by five fingers. Four. Three. She felt the beast’s hissing, humid breath at her feet, the very edge of its tusk as she knocked it with her ankle, the first of its teeth raking her calves…

The world rushed past her, but not in the direction she was expecting. Something grabbed her arm and pulled her over the ledge, and she heard a lightsaber hum close to her face.

The creature growled as it crested the cliffside, and Rey rolled over to see that horrible, spined skull looming over her. Then there was a flash of red, and one of its tusks flew over her head.

The monster shrieked and howled and thrashed, and Kylo shoved something at her. “Take it!”

It was Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber.

She wrenched it from his hand and leapt to her feet before igniting it. The two of them were only feet away from the monster’s jaws, which reflected pale red and blue in the light of their weapons. The creature swiped a gigantic, clawed paw at Kylo, but he ducked and swung his lightsaber over his head. The monster screamed again and fell on the stump of its foreleg, its severed paw smoking on the ground. Rey rushed forward, and while it lurched at Kylo with the intent of swallowing him whole, she flung herself at the side of its head and drove her lightsaber through one of its eyes.

The creature was dead before it could make another noise—only its rattling breath filled the air as its massive body slumped to the ground. Rey yanked her lightsaber free, and Kylo caught her arm and pulled her away from the ledge, just moments before the monster’s body slid over the cliffside. A few seconds passed before a horrible wet _thump_ echoed below them.

Rey panted hard. It took her a while to realize that Kylo, too, was panting, and that his mask was gone.

After everything that had happened, she’d completely forgotten the wound she’d given him back at Starkiller. The slash in his face had been a bloody mess then, but it had since faded to a thin—but still prominent—scar, which ran from above his right brow, down the length of his face, and ended just past the line of his jaw.

She didn’t realize she was staring until Kylo looked at her.

Then a noise like booming thunder sounded above them, and Rey glanced up just in time to see the gigantic battlecruiser disappear from the sky, gone into hyperspace.

Kylo’s jaw worked.

“What—” Rey tried to force air into her burning lungs. “But it’s—why did it—?”

Kylo sucked in his breath before answering.

“It’s gone,” he said, “because it’s fleeing the Resistance attack we knew was coming. It can’t stay where they know it is.”

Rey looked at him. He gave a hoarse laugh, but there was no humor in either it or the slight curl of his mouth.

“I did tell you not to escape.”

 

* * *

 

They stood in panting silence for a while. The sandstorm began to clear, and Rey stared at the empty spot in the planet’s atmosphere where the battlecruiser’s massive silhouette had loomed only minutes before.

“You knew they were coming.”

“Yes,” was all Kylo said.

Rey continued to breathe hard, and her lungs burned at the shock of dry air she was forcing into her chest. Her fingers curled around the hilt of her lightsaber.

Then she whirled around and swung her lightsaber at Kylo, only for him to lift his own. The blades hummed as they met mid-air, and she pulled away.

She swung again, and again, and again. Their blades kissed once, twice, three times, until Kylo threw out his arm, and the Force flung her backward onto the rocky ground.

“Don't do this,” he said. “Not now.”

“Why _not?”_ she spat.

“Night is falling.”

“And?”

“And there’s more creatures where that came from.” He pointed with his chin at the cliff ledge. “They might have smelled our blood by now, if they didn’t sense our presence already.”

Rey frowned. “Sense our presence?”

But Kylo didn’t elaborate. “Either way, it won’t matter once the sun goes down and we freeze to death.”

Rey glared at him, but even she couldn't argue with that. Not to mention her arms were trembling with the mere effort of holding her lightsaber, every small movement sent a sharp pain shooting through her ribs.

Kylo wasn't much better off, either. A gruesome gash was torn in the side of his robes, where he dripped blood on the cracked earth beneath him. Perhaps it was the same wound he’d suffered back at Starkiller, and he’d reopened it. He'd probably torn it open wider in their fight with the monster.

His own arms shook, until finally he dropped them, deactivating his lightsaber. Rey stared at him, but he made no sign of moving.

Finally, she deactivated her lightsaber as well, and let her arms go slack. It took all her strength not to sink to her knees.

“Where's your ship?” she asked.

Kylo nodded in the direction over his shoulder.

“How badly damaged is it?”

A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Badly enough that it can't fly.” He glowered at her. “What were you _thinking?”_

“I was _thinking_ that you were dragging me back to your Supreme Leader, and I wasn't going to let that happen!”

“What you did could've killed you!”

“And what does that matter to you?”

“It—” But Kylo broke off suddenly.

Rey scoffed. “For all his talk about the Resistance using me, that's all Snoke wants to do, too.”

Kylo seemed to recover from whatever had stopped him. “You're untrained. Very powerful, but untrained. You _need_ a teacher.”

In a flash, Rey saw Kylo’s face inches from her own, as snow fell and earth crumbled back at Starkiller, when he’d said the same thing. It made her furious.

“What I _need_ is to get off this karking planet!”

“And whose fault do you think it is that we're on this planet to begin with?” His voice was rising. “I was trying to save you!”

“Save me? For _what?_  So you could turn me into Snoke’s pet, just like you?”

Black rage filled his eyes and darkened his face, and with a sudden burst of fear Rey wondered if she'd finally gone too far. But Kylo said nothing for a long time.

“None of this will matter,” he finally said, “if we’re both dead.”

Rey glanced over her shoulder. “Our best hope for survival just fell into that canyon.”

Kylo shot her a querying look.

“That thing’s stench probably would’ve made any other animals stay clear,” she said. “And we could've cut it open and taken shelter inside.”

For the briefest moment, Kylo’s face twisted with disgust.

“My ship is this way.” He'd already started walking. “Unless you'd rather climb down and carve up that thing.”

Rey rolled her eyes, but didn't answer him. He was right, after all. If they didn't do something, they'd both be dead soon. First, she needed to survive.

Then she'd deal with Kylo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I was going to make up a planet for these two to land on, but why do that when Star Wars has an abundance of planets with rich lore that I don't have to make up all by myself?
> 
> The creature they kill is a terentatek, and if you played KotOR (or have access to google), then you know where they are.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo and Rey reluctantly cooperate. Lightsabers prove unexpectedly useful. The author contrives a way to add alcohol to the narrative.

Though the sandstorm let up, and they were no longer being hunted by giant hulking bloodthirsty monsters, it didn’t feel as if things had gotten any easier. The cracked solid ground gave way to dunes that impeded their progress, and the sun was setting, stealing both light and warmth with it. Deserts heated up quickly. They froze just as fast. Not like the planet with Starkiller Base, not with frozen water, but just as deadly.

Rey was about to ask Kylo how much further they needed to go when he stumbled to his knees.

Rey stopped, but it was only when he didn't get up that she started to feel concerned. Well, not _concerned_ … that was far from being the right word for Kylo Ren, member of the First Order and enemy of the Resistance. But he was her only hope of finding shelter or heat at the moment.

She trudged towards him and saw him clutching his side, breathing through gritted teeth. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He forced himself shakily to his feet, and she had no warning before he pitched forward and fell right on top of her. Rey fell flat on her back and was smothered by black robes, and immediately fought through them to push him away.

“Oh, for the love of—!”

She grunted—Kylo’s height and weight were far greater than her own—and, finally, shoved him off with trembling arms. She came away with blood smeared on her robes from the gash in his side, which was now weeping freely. Though Kylo’s robes were black, up close Rey could see they were wet with his blood.

He lay on his back, staring up at her. “It’s noth—”

“Shut up, you moron,” she hissed. It was not nothing. He was bleeding out, their walking having torn his wound open even wider.

“The ship isn't too far.” His voice was tight, like he was pouring all his energy into trying not to sound like he was in pain. “If we can get there…”

“You can't move,” Rey said, “and I can't carry you.”

“Then leave me.” Kylo said it so frankly that Rey was taken aback. “Keep walking in that direction, and you'll find it.”

Rey hesitated. She _could_ leave him. Nobody could even blame her—not that there was anyone around to blame her. And she knew from Jakku’s cold nights how little time they had before scorching dunes gave way to freezing night, and judging by the sun’s position, she was pushing it. And Kylo was with the First Order. He'd killed Han Solo. He was…

Still human. And she might not have liked him, but she wasn't going to leave him to die. She wasn't like _him._

Rey leaned over him. “We need to put pressure on it.” She grabbed for her robes. They were flimsy, but she could probably make a tourniquet—

“Wait,” Kylo said. “The fabric’s too thin, and you're barely wearing anything as it is.”

Rey would've flushed, if the exertion hadn’t heated her face already. “Then _your_ robes. They’ll—”

“There's something that'll work better.”

Rey frowned at him. “Like what?”

He glanced down at her side. “Your lightsaber.”

“What _about_ my—”

“They cauterize anything they touch,” Kylo said.

Comprehension dawned on Rey. “But…” She shook her head. “That's insane. I—I could chop you in half! Or stab you with it! What if I—”

“Then you'll have to be careful not to chop me in half or stab me with it.”

“But won't it just make your wound worse?”

“Not if you're very careful.”

“Are you kidding? I've never done this before!”

“I know.” Kylo grimaced, another spasm of pain twisting his face. “Just—do it. Get it over with.”

Rey watched him, but the look on his face was unyielding. She unclipped Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber from her side. It hummed as she ignited it.

With her other hand she pushed back Kylo’s robes—the gash was a lot longer and deeper than she’d thought. She took several steadying breaths, and saw Kylo’s jaw tense as she held her lightsaber in a white-knuckle grip.

It occurred to her then how his life was literally in her hands. She _could_ stab him. She could run the lightsaber right through him. Just like she'd wanted to, however briefly, back at Starkiller. Like he'd done with Han Solo. With his own father. Her friend.

“What are you waiting for?” Kylo growled between clenched teeth. “Do it n—”

She placed the very edge of the lightsaber against Kylo’s side. She heard him make a strangled noise, and pulled the blade away a split moment later.

His flesh was angry red, and she could've sworn it sounded like it was sizzling, but Kylo hadn't been wrong: the bleeding had been staunched.

Kylo was breathing hard, like he'd just run a mile.

“Can you stand?” Rey asked.

He didn't answer, but when she held out her hand, she was able to help him to his feet. She let go of him almost immediately, putting several strides between them before deactivating her lightsaber.

“This way,” Kylo grunted, before once again taking the lead

* * *

Kylo hadn't lied—his ship wasn't too much farther. Rey saw the smoke first, dark and billowing against the rust-colored sky, before she saw the ship’s slick black exterior. Up close it looked even more wicked than it had from her cockpit, even with the damage it sustained. It wasn't ruined like her TIE fighter had been, but one of its wings had been blasted nearly off. Her doing, she remembered. The rest of the ship was dented and mangled, but not destroyed.

Kylo said nothing as he limped toward it.

“Wait,” Rey said. “We have to put out whatever fire is—”

“I know,” said Kylo. “I'm getting to that.”

“Why didn't you do it when you first landed? The entire ship could've blown up by now, if you hadn't been lucky!”

“Because,” Kylo said, “you were being hunted by that… thing.”

“But how did you even know that? You couldn't have seen me from here.”

Kylo didn't answer. Instead he walked to his ship’s side, heaved open a panel, and ripped something out that came away with a sharp hiss. The smoke began to fade.

“I heard you,” he finally said.

It made sense. Maybe. But for whatever reason, Rey didn't find it convincing.

“Get in.” He gestured to the cockpit. “Unless you'd rather stay out here.”

For a moment, Rey thought she _would_ rather walk back, cut open whatever animal they killed, and crawl inside that than inside Kylo’s TIE fighter, but it wasn't like she had many options. She clambered inside its dark interior, and immediately felt herself go limp at the warmth. She slumped against the side of the cockpit just as Kylo crawled in after her.

She watched him warily, almost feeling like she had when she and the others were being chased by rathtars on the _Millennium Falcon_. It wasn't quite the same—she doubted Kylo could swallow her whole—but it was the same queasy feeling of being trapped with something extremely dangerous, and not knowing from which direction the next attack would come.

Once again, she didn't realize she was staring until he looked at her. And once again, she found herself struck by how without the mask, he looked so… different. The mask looked like pure evil. The face beneath it, however…

“I'm not going to kill you,” he said, quietly. It was strange to hear him talk so softly, even though she'd heard it before—back when he was interrogating her, face inches away from her own, when they broke through each other's minds.

“I know that.”

“Then why are you looking at me like I will?”

Rey glared at him. “Give me one reason why I should trust you.”

“Because I'm the only person here that can help you, and the only thing on this planet that doesn't want you dead.”

She supposed he did have a point there. Not that it made her feel any better.

“Is your distress beacon working?” she asked.

“No,” Kylo said. “I wouldn't expect it to have done us any good, however.”

“And why not?”

“We’re in the Outer Rim. The _Finalizer_ was stationed here because the system is too distant for anyone to bother with it. And now…” He gestured limply. “It's gone.”

Rey was quiet for a bit. “But the Resistance…”

“Believes you're dead.”

The words hit Rey like a shock of ice water. “But… then why were they…”

“Hux thought it a good idea to let them believe you might be alive and draw out however many of their forces we could,” Kylo said lightly. “It would also help us gauge just how important you were to them, and tell us if they knew how valuable you were. Once they attacked, we would let it slip on the channels they'd decrypted that you were dead.”

Rey was quiet for a long time.

“So… there really isn't anyone coming for me.”

Kylo didn't answer, but he didn't need to.

“What about you?” Rey said. “They really didn't just leave you here, did they?”

Kylo chewed the inside of his mouth. “After that crash, I doubt anyone has any reason to believe we're alive.”

“And why not?”

“Because if we didn't die in the crash,” Kylo said, “they'll assume we’ll die of the heat. Or the cold. Or starvation. Or being smashed to bits by a terentatek.”

The revelation of the monster’s name made little impact on Rey, given everything else. “So they really won't send anyone to check? Even for you?”

Once again Rey felt a thought that wasn't her own float to the surface of her mind—and it couldn't have been her own, because why else would she be thinking the words _compassion_ and _your weakness?_

“Hux did try to warn me,” Kylo said, with the barest of smirks.

“And you ignored him?”

Rey wasn't sure why she kept talking, except that perhaps every moment Kylo talked was a moment he wasn't doing something else.

“I did.”

Rey stiffened when Kylo reached for something—only he came away with something black and silver she recognized. His helmet.

He stared at it for a while.

“Why aren't you wearing it?” she asked quietly.

Kylo didn't answer immediately.

“Hux isn't here to complain,” he said, then set it aside. Then he turned around to reach for something else—a compartment beneath the dashboard. Even after he opened it and pulled out a bottle, it took her until after he uncapped it to realize it was alcohol.

Kylo took several swigs and sighed, ran a hand through his already-tousled hair, and leaned back against the side of the cockpit. Even in the shadows of the ship, Rey could see circles dark as bruises drawn beneath his eyes. Kylo looked so… tired. Vulnerable.

“You keep… alcohol,” she said. “In your ship.”

Kylo had let his eyes flutter closed, but he opened them when she spoke. “Evidently, yes.”

This was so—strange. She'd never seen Kylo like this. Had never _expected_ to see him like this. Then again, she knew life-threatening situations could bring out strangeness in everybody. Even members of the First Order, it seemed.

“And… why do you keep alcohol in your ship?”

“For when I crash land on desert planets with scavengers who want to kill me.”

Rey cringed only slightly at the word “scavenger,” but something in Kylo’s expression softened.

“Here.” He held out the bottle to her.

She shook her head. “No.”

“It's not poisoned, you know. I think I've proven that much.”

“No, but it's a stupid idea.”

“What really seems stupid is to waste this perfect opportunity to drink.”

Force, she had no idea he'd be such a smartass. If she had, she’d have let the terentatek devour her.

“No, it's a stupid idea because drinking on a cold night is a stupid idea.”

Kylo frowned. “It raises your core temperature.”

“Not by enough to matter, but enough to make you think you're not freezing to death when you actually are.”

Kylo said nothing for a bit.

“Unfortunate.” He tipped the bottle back to take several greedy gulps of whatever was inside.

Rey rolled her eyes and sighed, pushing herself up as much as the height of the cockpit allowed. “We need to get a fire going,” she said. “We’re losing heat, and if we don't want to wake up dead, we'll need one.”

“I don't see much in the way of kindling around here,” Kylo said. “Unless you'd like to set the rest of my ship on fire.”

Rey glared at him. “Are you going to help or not?”

Kylo leaned his head back against the wall and exhaled through his nose. “Starting a fire shouldn't be difficult, with what we have on hand.” He gestured at the ship’s interior, and Rey understood. It probably wouldn't be hard to find a way to start an electrical fire. “The problem is finding something to burn.”

“We also need to clear a space for the fire.” She glanced around, but there wasn't much of one. The ship might have been large, but it was still meant to seat only one.

Kylo already looked displeased, as if he could read her thoughts. “And I'm assuming starting one outside my ship is out of the question.”

“It's pointless if we don't have shelter to trap the heat, and last I saw, this was the only shelter we had.”

“Naturally.” Kylo took another swig. “At least we have alcohol to keep us from noticing we're freezing to death.”

Rey groaned. “Can we run the engines in this thing at all?”

“Not without risking an explosion. I don't know how extensive the damage is.” Kylo set aside the bottle and made to get up. “Yet.”

“Stop.” Rey didn't think about grabbing his shoulder to push him back down until after she did it. Even Kylo looked mildly surprised by the contact, but she ignored it. “We still haven't treated your wound, and you'll probably rip it open again. I'll look.”

She expected Kylo to argue, but instead he nodded and remained seated. “Fine.”

“Do you have bacta patches in here, or just alcohol?”

Kylo gestured at the compartment. “In there, too.”

Rey rolled her eyes before climbing over to open it. “But you wanted to get drunk first.” She tossed him a patch. “There.”

He took it wordlessly, and Rey focused instead on the ship. It was unlike anything she'd scavenged before—it was a TIE fighter, sure, but she'd never seen anything like it. Everything was state of the art, brand new, and looked obscenely expensive.

“The First Order doesn't make too many of these, do they?”

“Just one.”

Rey paused, looking up from an open panel of wires and parts to glance over her shoulder at him. “Really?”

“Yes,” was all he said.

“Oh.” She turned back to her task. “What's it called?”

She heard him swallow more of his drink before answering. “The TIE Silencer.”

Of course it was named something like that.

“I can get one of the engines running,” she said. “Not well enough to fly, but if I bypass this…” Her voice trailed off as she went to work, pulling apart the ship’s innards and grafting them back together.

She managed to forget about Kylo entirely until something floated next to her ear.

“Use that.” His hand was lifted to use the Force to make the ship part hover beside her.

Rey blinked at him, then grabbed the part from the air and went back to work, though she felt his eyes on her the whole time. After a few minutes, she heard him again.

“What are you _doing?”_ Kylo said.

Rey bristled. “Your job for you.”

“But that's not…” Kylo crawled beside her to inspect the open panel she was working on. “Oh.”

Rey rolled her eyes. “I actually do know what I'm doing.”

“Apparently,” Kylo said absently, still looking at her handiwork. “We should be fine powering on the one engine, at least.”

“And where's the switch for that?”

Kylo forced himself up on trembling arms to hit the correct buttons on the console, and the ship thrummed as one side came alive. Then Kylo sighed, slumped into the pilot’s chair, and levitated his bottle of alcohol toward him so he could drink from it again. At least he had the bacta patch on his side.

“I can't believe you,” said Rey.

“There's still some left, if you want it.”

_“No.”_

“Suit yourself.”

“We still need to figure out food,” Rey said. “And heat, unless you want to use all the starship fuel we have. And how to fix this so we can get out of—”

“Not,” Kylo said, “right now.”

 _“Yes,_ right now.”

Kylo shot her a look. “You need to rest.”

“What I need is to—”

“You hadn’t fully recovered from your head injury before you crash landed and nearly died. You need to rest.”

“So I can be in mint condition for when you drag me back to Snoke?”

Kylo ground his teeth. “I can make you sleep, in case you don’t remember.”

Rey’s heart skipped a beat when she remembered Takodana.

“But I don’t want to do that,” Kylo said.

Rey watched him warily. “Then what do you want?”

“For you—” He broke off suddenly. “For us to stay alive.”

Rey wanted to say something scathing and clever. That, or pick up the nearest piece of ship wreckage and chuck it at his head.

“You're a murderer,” she finally said. “Even if you want me alive now, what's to stop you from killing me later?”

There was something strange in Kylo’s expression, something she couldn't quite place. “You really think I want you dead.”

No, she didn't. Not really. But she didn't think she could trust him, either.

“You killed your own father,” Rey said. “Who don't you want dead?”

A spasm of pain flickered across Kylo’s face. His wound must've been acting up.

He turned away from her. “Goodnight, scavenger.”

He said nothing to her after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real talk, I headcanon that the cockpit of the Silencer is a place Kylo might go to decompress and get away from everyone else (coughhuxcough), especially if he didn't want to be found where the First Order knew they could bother him (i.e., his room). And what better way to decompress than by getting drunk? It would probably help shut out Snoke's voice as well, because lord knows that would get overwhelming.
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr as darthcaelus.


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